A Kingdom Without War

“O King of nations.” That’s the messianic title we ascribe to Jesus on the Third Sunday of Advent, which also happens to be the festival of Christ the King, or Reign of Christ. It’s a relatively new festival, by the way– Christ the King Sunday didn’t find its way onto the liturgical calendar until 1925, one hundred years ago, when Pope Pius XI instituted the festival in response to the rise of authoritarian regimes across Europe. In his encyclical, Quas primas, Pius decreed: “Christ has dominion over all creatures, a dominion not seized by violence or usurped, but his by essence and by nature.”[1] That is to say, Christ is king, not Stalin. Christ is king, not Hitler. Christ is king, not any earthly ruler who promises peace and prosperity by means of domination.

Clearly there is some kind of holy subversion going on here, because kings aren’t routinely arrested, convicted, and sentenced to death by competing authorities. Yet, Jesus’ fate is exactly that. What kind of king doesn’t impose his will on others by force, but instead submits to humiliation and execution?

Answer: the kind whose “kingdom does not belong to this world,” to quote Jesus’ defense at his interrogation in the Gospel of John.[2] Violent struggle is the way of the world, but Jesus will not rule by violence; he will not forcibly inaugurate the reign of God; he will not command his followers to kill for him.[3] On the contrary, Jesus will establish his authority precisely by refusing to respond to hostility with more hostility. In other words, the “King of nations” is also the “Prince of peace.”

And his peace is already foreshadowed in the Psalm assigned for Christ the King Sunday: “Behold the one who makes war to cease in all the world; / who breaks the bow, and shatters the spear, and burns the shields with fire.” Or, in the more modern language of our new Gathering Hymn for this expanded Advent, the King of nations will “break the rifle [and] crush the rocket, smold’ring hatreds all be gone.”[4]

 “Jesus turns the war story on its head,” as Rachel Held Evans puts it in her chapter about biblical violence. It’s worth hearing from her at length:

[Excerpt from Inspired, pp. 76-8]

[1] en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christ_the_King.

[2] 18:36.

[3] See David J. Lose, www.davidlose.net/2015/11/christ-the-king-b-not-of-this-world/.

[4] Nate Sutton, “Hear, O God, My Earnest Pleading.”